


Two Wrong Girls

by thebearsays



Category: Sackett Series - Louis L'Amour
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8853541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearsays/pseuds/thebearsays
Summary: Bess is on the lookout for a new girl, now that Anne has died and the girl after her, Jessi Tucker, has escaped. And when Meg Coburn shows up at her new cabin, Bess thinks her luck has turned for the better, but Meg, like Jessi before her, has other ideas.





	1. Story Part One

** Disclaimer:  **

**All recognizable characters and settings are the properties of Louis L'Amour, while all original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**This story – unlike those penned by Mr. L'Amour - has some graphic language and descriptions, more "Deadwood" than "Gunsmoke", but I hope you will enjoy it just the same.**

* * *

**Part One **

**Jessi**

**She never should have gotten into the wagon.**

**_Never, never, never._ **

**But she had, because even thirteen-year-old girls can be stupid, and the old lady had such kind blue eyes.**

* * *

**_She'd been hunting meat for Preacher Stacy's table, barefoot as usual and wearing her short yellow dress, the one Ma'd hated to the point of distraction._ **

**_Don't think of Ma._ **

**_So she doesn't, remembering instead the heat of that day, her dress clinging to her skin and her long blonde hair falling sweaty and tangled over her green eyes._ **

**_By late afternoon Jessi had strayed farther than usual, past Widow Marsh's old place and nigh halfway to Sackett's Ridge – once her real home - with just two rabbits in her sack to show for her trouble as she sat herself on a fallen log to rub her sore, tired feet._ **

**_Which is where the witch-lady found her ten minutes later, half-dozing and unaware of danger, and the offer of a ride to town was too tempting to turn away from._ **

**_And too good to be true._ **

* * *

**So now here she is, just past a month later, the preacher's fake daughter sitting barefooted in the loft of a deserted barn, free again but with Mama still dead thanks to Zeke Scanlan and her chest burnt thanks to Malcom Stacy's hateful way with her.**


	2. Story Part Two

**Part Two**

**Getting Loose**

**_Her escape from Bess, when it came, proved almost too easy, more the result of Jessi's quick temper and skinny wrists than any cunning on her part._ **

**_It was her sixth night of captivity, well past midnight, and still hotter than whatever level of Hell her new pa was currently damning her to._ **

**_The day just past had been grueling, both her and Bess testy from the heat, and Bess not shy about cuffing her for no reason._ **

**_After the fifth blow Jessi got tired of counting and slapped the old woman across the face._ **

**" _You'd dare strike me?" Bess asked in amazement, so shocked she forgot to retaliate. "I should paddle your backside!"_**

**_Jessi's glare was deadly. "Lady, if I had my gun I'd_ shoot _you. An' my backside's been paddled before."_**

**" _Insolent brat," Bess muttered, but her eyes fell away first. And the endless day dragged on into an endless night._**

* * *

**_She'd been lying on her back, her right wrist shackled to the cot's metal frame, her hair and skin damp with sweat, and more than anything right then she wants to get shut of the flannel gown she's worn to bed since her second night at the cabin._ **

**_The first night Jessi'd slept nude, and even that was miserable, but Bess had scowled at her all the next day, and at nightfall the old woman came into the stifling-hot room and threw the nightgown at her._ **

**" _Put that on."_**

**" _Why?"_**

**"' _Cause it ain't decent, a girl your age sleepin' naked, that's why."_**

**" _But it's too hot not to!"_**

**" _Says you. You don't see me goin' to bed all bare-assed, do you?"_**

**" _No," Jessi retorted, shuddering at the thought. "An' it's a good thing, too, else maybe I'd go blind from the sight of you."_**

**_That got her slapped, and made to wear the flannel besides._ **

**_Now she wanted it off, decent be damned, but removing the gown one-handed was both awkward and impossible, and finally she quit trying._ **

**_For a while then she'd lain still, breathing hard and forcing herself not to scream in frustration, until the unfairness of it all washed over her and she fisted her small, sweat-slick hands._ **

**_And with a muffled curse she yanked her right one clear out of the shackle._ **

**" _Well, damn," Jessi muttered, and with another yank the hated gown came off and got thrown across the tiny room. Then she swung her feet to the floor and stared down at her naked toes through a curtain of dirty blonde hair._**

**_Her hand hurt something fierce, so she looked at it there in her lap, raw with missing skin and blood oozing all over her bare thigh._ **

**_Only then did her foggy brain snap to, and with a start she sat bolt upright on the cot._ **

**_She was free, and not just of the nightgown._ **

**_Now what?_ **

**_The door to her room, usually closed and locked at night, now sat wide open, and Jessi ccould hear Bess snoring in the kitchen beyond._ **

**_She got up and padded over to the door, then peered cautiously out._ **

**_Bess was at the table, passed-out drunk, and there in a corner was Jessi's own rifle, which she quickly retrieved._ **

**_Shoot her, a small voice whispered in her mind, but she doesn't have it in her and settles for slipping silently out into the pre-dawn darkness._ **

**_It was time to go home._ **

* * *

**_As she walked, armed with her Winchester and naked as the day she was born, Jessi knew full well she couldn't show up at home in her current state, as much as she'd just love to mortify both the preacher and his mousy wife._ **

**" _Best not to go home a'tall," she said aloud. "Least not right off."_**

**_Then where?_ **

**_She has few friends in town – actually just two – and only one of them will be of any help to her now._ **

**_German Shafer, the proprietor of Maggie's Café, who seems truly fond of her and loves to regale her with tales of his past whenever she stops by._ **

**_Jessi lengthened her stride, happy with her decision to see German before facing the Stacys' wrath._ **


	3. Story Part Three

**Part Three **

**Jessi and German**

**_In his fifty-something years, German Shafer has been a cow nurse, a cow camp cook, and a stage driver, and in those years there isn't much he hasn't seen or heard._ **

**_But today, while Malcom Stacy was plotting his run for sheriff in the dining room and his step-daughter was hiding out in Maggie's kitchen wrapped in someone's blanket, German found himself almost at a loss for words._ **

**_He watched her, stroking his drooping gray mustache as she poured out her story, and when she fell silent he asked, for lack of an intelligent question, "Where'd you get the blanket, from the old woman?"_ **

**_Jessi shook her head. "Stole it off the Kershaw's clothesline."_ **

**" _Smart thinkin'," German said, "but I'll get it back to them later." Then, eyeing her thoughtfully, he added, "Wait here."_**

**_She arched a brow at him as if to say Where else would I go?_ **

**" _Yeah," German admitted with a grin, "that was dumb."_**

**_He disappeared into a room off the kitchen, likely his sleeping quarters, then returned shortly with a buttoned black shirt which he tossed at her._ **

**" _Best you put this on."_**

**" _Okay," she agreed, dropping the blanket without any shyness and quickly pulling the shirt over her head like a dress._**

**" _Jesus, girl," he muttered, blushing furiously. "Next time warn a man you're gonna do that."_**

**" _Next time shut your eyes," she shot back, her own eyes twinkling at him._**

**_Then an angry Malcom Stacy shoved through the swinging doors leading to the dining room, and the light in Jessi's eyes faded as quickly as it came._ **

**Jessi and Malcom  
**

**_The next night, with Anna Stacy gone to town and Jessi catching up on her schoolwork at the table, Malcom came on her from behind and grabbed her by the hair, lifting her so her bare feet dangled off the floor._ **

**_She struggled fiercely in his grasp, her hair falling wildly about her face, blinding her as his free hand tore the front of her calico dress clear down to her belly button._ **

**" _What the hell are you doing?" she cried as he flung her to the ground, imagining the shame of him raping her right there in the kitchen, but what Malcom Stacy did next hurt far worse._**

**_When the carbolic-soaked rag touched between her breasts she screamed, and folks passing on the street came running and pulled him off her._ **

**_And in the end, his reaction to his new daughter's ordeal will cost him more than just his chance to be the town's first sheriff._ **

**Still In The Loft **

**So now Jessi hugs her knees to her chest and closes her eyes, bitterly aware that by escaping from the witch's cabin she'd simply traded one form of despair for another.**

**A shackle and a cigarette burn 'tween her tits for Malcom's bottle of carbolic.**

**She chokes on a sob as the tears come, and for the first time since she'd fled the cabin Jessi allows herself a good cry _._**


	4. Story Part Four

**Part Four **

**Bess **

**The old woman with the kindly blue eyes stands at the kitchen window of Vera Marsh's old cabin with an old Sharps and watches the girl ride into the ranch yard on her frisky black mare, a girl with a pretty face and a mess of brown hair pinned atop her fool head.**

**She ears back the hammer of her gun. "That's far enough, missy!"**

**Meg **

**It is six months shy of her nineteenth birthday when Meg Coburn rides into that ranch yard, and at the sound of the Sharps being cocked she wonders if maybe she won't ever make it that far.**

**Meg reins up sharply, and with her right side briefly turned away from the cabin she slips her own rifle from its boot.**

**She is tired, saddle-sore, and soaked to the skin from the storm she'd just ridden through, and it is in her mind to turn Shadow right around and head back the way she'd come.**

**But it _isn't_ in her to run, and the old bitch'd probably just shoot her in the back anyway, so Meg faces forward again with the rifle held low and out of sight against her leg.**

**"Settle down, lady," she calls out. "I'm friendly."**

**The old woman chuckles. "Well, sure! This old Sharps'll have that effect on folks, I reckon."**

**Now Meg, in one smooth, almost negligent motion, has her rifle cocked and pointed at the window.**

**She flashes an insolent grin. "My Winchester does that too. Why, I reckon it'll even have a rude old bat like _you_ singin' a more hospitable tune!"**

**Bess **

**Bess almost shoots the little smart-mouth right there, but she's been lonely since Anne defied her by dying, and the one after her somehow slipped free of her shackle one night and ran off for home bare-ass naked.**

**Besides, she _does_ need a girl to help out around Vera Marsh's old place, and it'll be fun to beat the sass out of this one.**

**So Bess lowers the Sharps and makes herself smile, and says, "Well, ride on up, then. You can tie that pretty mare to the porch rail."**

**"Can I stable her instead? We've come a far piece."**

**"I can take care of that for you while you dry off and have a nice bowl of soup."**

**Meg holds her ground. "No, ma'am. Nobody tends my horse but me."**

**Bess scowls at being balked, then shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll make you some special coffee, too. I bet you could use some."**

**She smiles maliciously, her blue eyes not so kindly now, but the girl is already leading her pony to the stable and doesn't notice.**

**Meg **

**The old lady's sudden agreeable nature should have warned her, but Meg has just spent a week on the trail, sleeping on hard ground and eating her own cooking, and her guard is down.**

**Then, to top it all off even more, another sudden downpour drenches her as she heads for the cabin after caring for Shadow.**

**In The Cabin **

**Meg **

**As Meg leans her rifle in the corner Bess had indicated, she hears a floorboard creak close behind her and turns quickly, but by then it is too late.**

**The first slap splits her lip and scatters all the pins holding back her wet brown hair, the second, harder one staggers her and bloodies her nose.**

**Meg's hair falls over her eyes like a curtain, but she knows where Bess is, and with an incoherent cry she launches herself at her in a flying tackle that sends them both to the floor.**

**At first Meg's fierce anger and love of battle give her an edge, but Bess, despite being much older, is both heavier and stronger, and soon Meg finds herself pinned while Bess, sitting on her stomach, grabs a fistful of hair and slaps her silly.**

**Bess' hands are strong and calloused, each blow lands harder than the last, and soon Meg doesn't feel them anymore.**

**Bess **

**Bess stands over the unconscious girl sprawled at her feet, her eyes cold.**

**"Serves you right, throwin' yourself at me like that."**

**She nudges her with the toe of her shoe, then kicks one of her breasts, eliciting a soft gasp of pain but no movement.**

**"Out cold, are ye? Well, good, let's have a better look at you, then."**

**She squats on her heels, using a hank of Meg's still-wet hair to wipe away most of the blood around her nose and mouth.**

**The girl's face is a sight, her cheeks already bruised, her lips are a bit swollen but her eyes are not, and Bess – an old pro at this - nods in satisfaction.**

**What good is a girl around the house if she can't open her pretty eyes?**

**Next Bess tugs off Meg's scuffed, down-at-heel boots and tosses them aside, then slips a hand under the knee-length riding skirt to remove her stockings. She takes her time, removing first one then the other, her fingers trailing along the tanned, warm flesh until the stockings are off and Meg's legs and feet are bare under her hungry gaze.**

**_Girl's got pretty feet._ **

**Bess takes one of Meg's feet in each hand, kneading them, fingering the toes, then her hands move upward, caressing first her calves, then up between her thighs, until finally the girl comes awake moaning and squirming under her touch.**

**Meg **

**She comes to on the floor, dimly aware that - save for her tattered blouse - the rest of her is pretty much naked.**

**And being fondled and explored and... _Oh!_**

**"Quit that," Meg mutters, feeling her body respond in spite of her half-hearted protest.**

**"What for?" Bess asks as her free hand rips open Meg's already-torn shirt. "You seem to like it well enough."**

**_I like it more'n I should,_ Meg thinks, her nipples stiffening painfully under Bess' swirling tongue, and she bites her lip to keep from crying out.**

* * *

**The days pass, and for Meg each one has its own routine...Bess and her roaming hands wake her at dawn and lull her to sleep long after dark, and in between there's the drudgery of work, two home-cooked meals, and - whenever Meg can't help mouthing off - a hard slap or two across her face.**

**She is not allowed to bathe, and after a while she can smell herself, sweat and dried blood and grease, and her once-lustrous hair hangs dull and lifeless over her face as she works.**

**One day, scrubbing the cabin's rough plank floor on her hands and knees, Meg looks up to see Bess placidly sipping coffee at the kitchen table, her Sharps within easy reach.**

**"Least you could do is let me wash up a mite," she says, and for a long moment the old woman studies her before getting to her feet.**

**"I reckon you're right, at that," Bess allows, coming to where Meg has her bucket. Without warning she picks it up and douses Meg from head to foot with dirty, soapy water.**

**"There," she hisses. "Now you're clean, but that floor needs a fresh scrubbin'."**

* * *

**That night Bess ties her wrists and ankles extra tight with the stockings, and there is no sexual foreplay. Meg falls asleep, feeling vaguely disappointed, but awakens in a hurry when she feels a sharp, searing pain between her breasts.**

**Her eyes open to find Bess standing over the cot, a lit cigarette in hand.**

**_What the hell did she just do to me?_ **

**"It was time to show you who's boss," Bess says in a flat voice. "Seems like you was forgettin'."**

**And she walks out, leaving Meg seething helplessly on her cot.**

**_I'll get her for that, I swear to God I will._ **

* * *

**"You seem sorta peevish this mornin'," Bess says, watching Meg sullenly sip her breakfast coffee.**

**Meg's temper, mostly held back thus far, flares.**

**"Peevish!? Lady, you branded me with a burnin' cigarette, an' if it wasn't for that damn derringer you got pointed at me under the table, you'd already be chokin' on your own blood."**

**Bess shrugs, unperturbed by Meg's outburst. "Young girls today need discipline an' a stern hand. And you, my dear, are actually very lucky."**

**"Oh, am I?" Meg's voice drips acid. "Do tell."**

**"All my girls 'fore you wore shackles."**

**Meg feels a dark, helpless dread come over her. "There were others?"**

**Bess nods. "Course, but they was easier to find when I still had Dickie helpin' me."**

**"Dickie?"**

**Bess sips her own coffee. "Dickie loved me, he brought me the girls to make me happy."**

**_Okay, this is sick, but if I wanna escape this witch I need to keep her talking._ **

**"So was this guy your husband?"**

**"Well sure, you don't think I'd live in sin, do you?"**

**"Course not. So what happened? He run out on you?"**

**Bess looks indignant. "No he never! An' why should he, with all that free snatch he was gettin'?"**

**_Well, hell. Share an' share alike, huh Bess?_ **

**"Okay, fine. Then where is he?"**

**The kindly blue eyes darken with anger. "That damn Talon killed him, then he come here an' rescued his lady love." Almost as an afterthought she adds, "Only girl I ever lost, 'til Malcom Stacy's little brat Jessi got loose."**

**_Good for you, Jessi._ **

**"Tell me about her. How'd she get away from you?"**

**Bess gives her a look. "Nice try, missy, but I ain't that stupid. You'd just get notions in that pretty head of yours."**

**Meg rolls her eyes, because those notions are already there. And soon after that conversation Bess will ride to town and stupidly forget to gag her, and that will make all the difference.**


	5. Story Part Five

**Part Five**

**Pablo and Felipe**

**_The two Shelby riders walk their horses cautiously up to the cabin, and one of them looks around while rolling a cigarette._ **

**" _Amigo, is this not the place where Talon rescued his seniorita?"_**

**" _No, Felipe," the one named Pablo replies, "that one was farther out, over near Grape Creek. But the way Milo tells it, Molly needed no rescuing."_**

**_Felipe lights his cigarette and blows out a cloud of smoke. "Did nothing happen to the old woman after this became known?"_ **

**_Pablo shakes his head. "No law here then, remember?"_ **

**" _Si." He grins. "But I also remember the vigilantes, amigo."_**

**" _So do I," Pablo agrees as he too looks around. "The old bruja must be elsewhere."_**

**_A girl's voice from inside the cabin startles them._ **

**" _The witch ain't here, just me, lyin' on this filthy cot all trussed-up and naked, and if y'all'd see fit to come in an' unloose me I would be mighty grateful." Then she adds, "An' I'd still be naked."_**

* * *

**In the end only Felipe samples her gratitude – twice – while his partner Pablo sips coffee in the kitchen.**

**And none of them hears the hoofbeats of the mule, a mule ridden by a woman with kindly blue eyes who reins up sharply when she sees the Shelby horses at her hitch-rail.**

**Bess takes in the scene at a glance, mutters a curse under her breath, then turns her mule around and hightails it back toward town.**


	6. Story Part Six

**Part Six**

**In Town**

**Bess **

**She stands nursing her second drink at The Golden Spur, ignoring both the bartender and the town's new sheriff, who sits at a nearby table eating his noon meal.**

**_Time to pull up stakes, Bess old girl._ **

**She's been here in town three days now, and some of the rumors swirling about her are hitting a bit too close to home.**

**The rumors surprise her, and the ridicule angers her.**

**"Losin' her touch, ain't she? First that Fletcher gal, an' now Malcom Stacy's 'dopted little girl, both of 'em got shut of her real quick."**

**"Wasn't it Talon who fetched Molly outta there?"**

**"He fetched her all right, but the way I heard it was, she'd already made her play to get loose."**

**"Talon shoulda killed the woman like he done her old man."**

**Then, just yesterday, she almost bumped into the preacher's brat outside Maggie's, and the girl – barefooted in a short buckskin dress - had glared at her through her unruly bangs.**

**"You'd be in jail, 'cept my so-called pa won't let me testify."**

**"He's just tryin' to protect you," Bess had muttered.**

**"Not from you," came the bitter reply. "He just don't want the shame of it stainin' him like it already done me." She shakes back her hair. "But you know somethin', lady? I ain't afraid of you, an' one day when I'm growed maybe I'll come find you."**

**And with that, Jessi had shoved Bess aside – _shoved_ her! - and continued on her way. Then, to add insult to injury, an old puncher loitering on the boardwalk called after her, "You tell her, missy!"**

**Bess stood there, staring after the girl in grudging admiration, and what she thought was, _I'm almost glad you got away._**

**Now, as the bartender refills her glass, she knows it's time to go.**

**"Hey, Bess!" a voice calls from behind her, and Bess sighs.**

**She'd waited too long.**

**She turns slowly to see Meg just inside the bat-wing doors, her Winchester held carelessly in one hand, a half-smile on her lips and an unholy gleam in those bold brown eyes of hers.**

**And she's _barefooted_ , just like the other one, although Bess isn't sure why that should matter, except that her next girl will have the sense to wear shoes.**

**"So it's you who found me, eh, 'steada the smart-mouth kid? Maybe it's best this way."**

**Her fingers slip into the pocket of her dress to curl around the handle of her derringer, and as she lifts it out Meg tilts the rifle up and says, "This is for all them others," and pulls the trigger.**

**A round blue hole appears between her round blue eyes, her lips part in surprise, and Bess is dead before the sound of the shot reaches her ears.**

**Meg**

**With the old lady's body still twitching on the floor and the back of her skull all over the front of the bartender's shirt, Meg looks at the sheriff.**

**"Am I in trouble for this?"**

**The sheriff takes her measure at a glance, the fresh bruises on her face behind that unruly hair, the tied-off, bloodstained shirt, her torn skirt and bare feet, and shakes his head.**

**"No, ma'am. The old gal had a hand on her gun when you shot her, so I reckon that's self-defense, sure 'nuff. That how you see it, Harry?"**

**The bartender nods, still stunned. "Yeah."**

**"Okay then," the sheriff says to her. "You're in the clear, but I'll need you to stop by the office and write down your story."**

**"Be glad to. But first _I_ need to find a little girl and tell her she don't have to be scared no more."**

**Then she's gone.**

**The Sheriff's Opinion **

**Harry looks ruefully down at the gory mess on his shirtfront, then at the sheriff.**

**"So, without knowin' the whys and wherefores, what do _you_ figger's been happening up yonder?"**

**The sheriff, newly-elected just after Jessi's dramatic escape, shrugs.**

**"Dunno. But I reckon ol' Bess there finally went and hired herself the wrong girl."**


	7. Story Part Seven

**Part Seven**

**Harry**

**_When Harry gets home that night to his wife Jamie and twelve-year-old daughter Lisa, Jamie looks horrified at the brains and gore on his shirt._ **

**" _What's wrong, Ma?" Lisa asks, wide-eyed and a bit scared by the look on Jamie's face._**

**" _Well, sweetie," Jamie tries to keep her voice light, "haven't I always said your Pa'd lose his mind someday, working at that damn saloon?"_**

**_Lisa walks up to Harry and very intently studies his face, then the front of his shirt, and announces in a relieved voice:_ **

**" _That one ain't his."_**


	8. Story Part Eight

**Part Eight**

**Meg and Jessi**

**The young girl looking solemnly back at her is tall and slender, no shape on her yet, but with a waist-length mop of shaggy blonde hair most other girls would kill for.**

**"Hi, Jessi," Meg says softly. "I like your hair."**

**Jessi smiles shyly. "I like yours, too."**

**"Mine's always a mess."**

**"That's _why_ I like it."**

**Meg laughs, then turns serious. "Jessi, why's your cheek still bruised? That ain't from Bess."**

**"Malcom smacked me."**

**Meg feels her hackles rise. "Why?"**

**"'Cause he always smacks me these days." Jessi exhales on a sigh. "See, when I turned up after a week bein' gone, no clothes on, and said what that lady done to me, he slapped my face and called me a liar. He said I'd been with some boy and was too ashamed to admit it." Her fists clench in renewed anger. "I was so mad I couldn't even talk, how _dare_ he be so mean, and when I did open my mouth what popped out was a cuss word and I got slapped again."**

**"Jesus. Were you at home by then, or still naked at the cafe?"**

**"At the cafe, but not naked. German had an extra shirt he let me have. I _still_ have it, but the preacher, he don't like when I wear it."**

**Meg shakes her head in disgust. "That was nice of German, but this Malcom gent sounds like an asshole."**

**"Yeah," Jessi says wryly. "That's what _I_ said too, that time at German's. _Smack._ "**

**"Somebody should smack _him,_ " Meg mutters, and Jessi smiles.**

**"For sure." She gives Meg a conspiratorial look and lowers her voice. "But if we're gonna keep being so honest about my new folks, we should go to the loft."**

**"The loft?"**

**Jessi nods. "Up in the barn. It's where I go to be alone." She sighs. "It's where I go _all_ the time, most days."**

**In The Loft With Meg **

**"Did she smoke cigarettes while you were there?" Meg asks, once the two of them are settled on the loft floor, facing each other cross-legged.**

**Jessi shakes her head. "No. I only ever saw one cigarette..." Her green eyes darken as understanding hits her like a slap. "Oh, Jesus."**

**She reaches out, and without shyness unbuttons enough of Meg's new shirt to reveal the small, round scar between her breasts.**

**She stares at it, hot tears running down her cheeks. Then, in a gesture so solemn it breaks Meg's heart, Jessi touches her fingers to her lips before pressing them gently against the other girl's healing burn.**

**Finally she sits back, her eyes wide and bright, and says softly, "Now you."**

**With trembling fingers Meg reaches out and pulls at the drawstring holding Jessi's nightshirt closed, then gasps at the angry red mark between the younger girl's still-budding breasts.**

**"My God! Who did you like that? Was it Bess?"**

**Jessi shakes her head, letting her hair fall forward to cover her face as she answers.**

**"Not Bess. An' not God, neither. Just a man who wishes he was."**

**"Then who?" Meg asks, her eyes widening in horror even as she poses the question.**

**"It was the preacher," Jessi whispers from behind her hair, then says no more.**

**_That sonovabitch!_ **

**Shaking with raw emotion, Meg kisses her own fingers and touches them to Jessi's wicked burn.**

**Then, tilting the girl's head up so they are gazing into each other's eyes, she says fiercely, "I won't let them hurt you again...Not ever!"**

**Jessi's eyes, so forlorn only a moment ago, brighten at once.**

**"Does that mean you're staying?"**

**"No, honey. It means when I go your skinny little butt's comin' with me."**

**"It is?"**

**"Sure." Meg reaches into her shirt pocket, takes out a folded page torn from a newspaper, and hands it to Jessi. "Read the part I circled."**

**The girl does, then looks up when she's done.**

**"Says here some new schoolmarm in Sackett's Ridge needs two young ladies to help her teach."**

**Meg grins happily. "She sure does, and thanks to the telegraph I sent this morning she knows we're comin'."**

**"They'll never let me go," Jessi says miserably.**

**"Yeah, they will. We just gotta convince 'em, is all."**

**Convincing The Stacys **

**"Why is Jessica's gown open so shamefully?" Malcom Stacy demands as soon as they are seated, and Jessi hastily moves to re-tie it.**

**Meg stops her. "Leave it. You got nothin' under there to be shamed by." She turns her cold stare on Malcom. "Why'd you burn her?"**

**Before Malcom can come up with his first lie, Jessi answers for him.**

**"He said I was branded by the devil, and tried to _cleanse_ me with carbolic."**

**Anna Stacy looks shocked. "Malcom! You didn't! You told me it was only the old witch who burned her."**

**Malcom stares angrily at Jessi. "The girl lies, Anna. You know I would never do such a thing to this wayward child."**

**Anna looks uncertainly from Jessi to her husband and back again. She _wants_ to believe the girl, but almost from birth she'd been taught that a man's word is law, and that only unruly children talk back.**

**So now, when she could have helped close the growing divide between them, Anna blows it wide open instead.**

**"Jessica Lynn Tucker, you will apologize to your pa this instant!"**

**"He ain't my pa."**

**"Jessi, I mean it. Apologize now!"**

**"No, Anna. You can take his side all you want, but I'm done apologizin' for stuff I didn't do, done feelin' guilty, an' done playin' your perfect little angel."**

**Meg, watching the byplay and proud of Jessi for holding her own, wonders when she should step in and take charge.**

**Then Malcolm says "Like you ever were," Jessi invites him to plant his lips on her rosy red posterior, and Meg thinks, _Now might be good._**

**But she's too late, with Jessi and the preacher on their feet and glaring at each other, and then Malcom sends Jessi sprawling with a vicious backhand, but as he hauls her up by the hair and starts to deliver another blow, Meg levers the action of her rifle.**

**"Hit her again, mister, an' I'll gut-shoot you."**

**Malcom's raised hand goes still.**

**Jessi pushes the barrel down, her eyes glittery and fixed hard on Malcom and Anna.**

**"Listen to me, both of you. I have no life here, not since the old lady took me anyhow, and y'all ain't made it any better."**

**"What do you mean, Jessi?" Anna asks.**

**"Well, what happened was bad enough, an' me showin' up all naked didn't help, but I coulda got through it in time." She shakes back her hair and looks angrily at Malcom. "But now, thanks to you, half the damn town thinks I'm either a witch or a whore."**

**Malcom doesn't reply, so Jessi turns her glare on Anna. "And _you,_ you got the rest of 'em scared to say shit, like I'm some fragile little thing who'll fall to pieces if someone even looks crossways at me." Her eyes narrow. "Y'all forget I'm used to it."  
**

**"Oh, surely it can't be that bad," Anna mutters, unwilling to admit, even to herself, that what Jessi has endured is in any way her fault.**

**"Like _hell_ it can't! All Preacher's friends think I'm some thirteen-year-old doxie, all your friends reckon me addled, and _my_ only friends anymore are Lisa and German."**

**"We could move," Malcom suggests. "Settle someplace where folks never heard of that crazy old woman, or what she done to you." After a pause he twists the knife. "Or who your mama was."  
**

**_And,_ he adds silently, _where your only friends aren't a barkeep's daughter and an old trail-drive cook._**

**"No, damnit!" Jessi cries, near tears now. "Weren't you even _listening_ to me? It ain't the old lady I need to get away from, it's y'all an' this no-name town."**

**Malcom scoffs. "And how will you live, with no skills and no parents to look out for you?"**

**"She'll be with me," Meg says flatly.**

**"Bah! You're still a kid yourself." He sneers. "Perhaps Jessica will be a doxie after all, just like her mother, and you right along with her."**

**Meg's eyes glitter. "I've _been_ a doxie. I don't see Jessi ever bein' one, but if life forces her into it I reckon she'll come out okay."**

**Jessi blushes at Meg's praise, then says, "Tell 'em about the schoolmarm."**

**So Meg does, talking earnestly of her plans for them, but what ultimately sways Malcom and Anna is Jessi's offer to send half her pay back home to them, and Meg's offer to have everything drawn up legal.**

**Malcom looks thoughtful. "So what you're saying is, once we sign them papers, Jessi stops being our responsibility?"**

**"That's right," Meg says firmly. "And she stops bein' any concern of yours whatsoever."**

**Anna frowns. "You mean we'll have no say in her raising at all? I don't know if I like that."**

**She looks at her husband, but he doesn't meet her eyes, choosing to glare at Jessi instead.**

**"Gimme one good reason why I should allow this."**

**"'Cause if you don't I'll run off anyways. An' if you come huntin' me, I'll show all the fine folks in Sackett's Ridge what you done to my chest." Then she adds, "Most of 'em liked me, and they weren't real happy when you stole me away after Mama got killed."**

**Malcom goes pale at the thought, and after sharing a long look with Anna, they both nod.**

**Taking Their Leave **

**Three days later Jessi says her goodbyes to German and Lisa, promising to visit them both often, and then, as an old woman with kindly blue eyes is buried on Boot Hill, her last two girls point their ponies east and head for a new start in a place Jessi already knows well.**

**_And the town of Sackett's Ridge, Colorado, will never be the same._ **

**THE END **


End file.
